


Almost Lovers

by LoveEvangeline



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Almost Lover - A Fine Frenzy, Angst, F/M, Flashbacks, Future Steve Rogers x Tony Stark, Gen, M/M, Oneshot, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Slash, Songfic, Steve Feels, Steve Needs a Hug, Steve Rogers-centric, only a little
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-23
Updated: 2015-06-23
Packaged: 2018-04-05 19:39:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4192428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveEvangeline/pseuds/LoveEvangeline
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trying to move past what was is one thing, trying to move past what almost was is something completely different. Hints at future Steve x Tony, but it doesn't have to be read that way if you don't like the pairing. Past Steve x Peggy obviously, but this is Steve centric. A songfic inspired by a really sad gif set on tumblr about Steve and Peggy, and the song Almost Lover by A Fine Frenzy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Almost Lovers

**Author's Note:**

> Credit for the lyrics in quotes belong to the band A Fine Frenzy, for their song "Almost Lover". It's a beautiful (and fucking sad) song, that I highly recommend checking out. I thought the lyrics were just too fitting.

_"Goodbye my almost lover  
goodbye my hopeless dream,"_

Waking up in the 21st century was a nightmare that wouldn’t end for Steve. Though he had been here for—wow—almost three months, he still pinched himself when he woke up with a tiny piece of plastic next to him that was apparently a phone. He pinched himself every time he saw a giant flashing billboard, a webpage, and definitely every time he talked to Tony fucking Stark, who not only invented it all but used so many words, phrases, and references that he didn’t know that it was like listening to a foreign language. It all made him very dizzy.

He wanted so many things back. Swing music (he was staunchly against this modern trash that some people confused for music). Politeness. _Normal_ coffee (why does it need whipped cream and chocolate? Is everyone in the 21 st century diabetic?). A familiar face, any familiar face (he decidedly ignored how familiar Tony’s face was and how it made his heart flare with warmth and his traitorous eyes want to water). Bucky. And _Peggy_. Peggy with her curly brown hair and her constant red lipstick (even in a war zone, _honestly_ ) and her toughness and her kindness and her clean smell that reminded him of a home he’d never, ever be able to return to.

His therapist said he should visit Peggy. That her grey hair and wrinkled skin would help him realize that this is permanent, that this is real. How could he tell them that he wasn’t ready to say goodbye, that for him it was like that first kiss was a few days ago, not seventy years? That he could still taste her lipstick, still feel the tingling in his lips? That he might never be ready to say goodbye to what almost was?

_"I’m trying not to think about you,  
can’t you just let me be?"_

Steve barely felt like getting out of bed, much less showering or eating or making friends or adjusting to where he was. Thank god he was, he _is_ , a solider at heart, and if there’s anything he can do, it’s compartmentalize and get the damn job done. And he’s busy, so busy. There’s S.H.I.E.L.D. and mandatory 21st century lessons and then there’s fucking _aliens_ and a battle that killed and destroyed more in a matter of hours than he had ever seen take place in _days_ during World War I. And then there’s the aftermath, building a team, working with the government in a finely tuned dance that he had almost perfected before boom, SH.I.E.L.D. is gone and he has to start all over again, find the truth about what happened, find the truth about Director Fury, and then Hydra, and then Bucky, but no, he’s the winter solider now. Steve can barely breathe there’s so much, and yet the second he’s alone, the second he has down time, it overtakes him, the pain, the horrible burning _loss_ is waiting for him. The second he's alone he wants the frenzy, the crazy flurry of activity back. Because if he was telling that therapist anything real, he’d tell her about the flashbacks. He sees Bucky hanging from the coffee table and destroys it trying to save his ghost before it fades away, leaving him bloody, full of splinters, and in tears. He’s chasing after Peggy, who is dressed beautifully for their dance, but she’s always just a little too far out of reach. It actually went so far one night that he truly believed he was dancing with her, back in the 40's. But she quickly evaporated, leaving him screaming “Leave me alone! Get out of my head!” and even though he knew he sounded insane he couldn’t stop screaming, _begging_ for someone to make him forget. He just wanted to _forget_.

_"So long, my luckless romance,  
my back, is turned on you."_

He gives in and visits her after a few weeks. It doesn’t help. It even makes it worse for a while. He stares at his hands, horrified, asking God, asking whoever, why everything he touches, why everyone he loves, turns to ash and dust. _These hands couldn’t save Bucky, these hands couldn’t save Ma, and they couldn’t even hold onto Peggy_ he thinks miserably, his nails cutting into his palms. His serum enhanced memory helpfully cycles through everyone he’s lost in battle and outside of it. The faces overwhelm him, too many to count. He has seen, he has _caused_ so much death and so much pain.

He doesn’t so much fall asleep as pass out, that night. But his last coherent thought is sharp, ringing through him and causing his bones to ache. _I won’t love again. That life is not meant for me_.

He decides that he won’t visit Peggy anymore. He can’t, it’s too painful. He hopes that she’ll understand.

_"I should’ve known you’d bring me heartache,  
Almost lovers always do."_

There is a physical pain in his chest, it’s constant, throbbing, and sometimes it makes his breath hitch. He checks his own medical records to make sure that his x-rays are clear of shrapnel, but he wonders anyway if Tony would build him one of those devices for his chest. Anything to stop the horrible ache.

It’s been another month, and his therapist says that he is adjusting. That he’s doing better, and all things considered that he’s doing well. Considering he hasn’t seen Peggy taunting him during his waking nightmares in a while, he hesitantly agrees. The therapist thinks it’s good that he’s moved out of his little apartment in Brooklyn and into the newly revamped Avengers Tower. He’s not so sure, but at least Natasha is there. And he likes his other teammates for the most part. Tony still hurts to look at, Bruce still concerns him, Thor still confounds him, and Clint still makes fun of him. But he decides it’s not terrible. They are a team, after all.

One morning, Tony shuffles out of his lab when Steve is in the kitchen, fixing a small breakfast before his morning workout. Tony sees Steve clutching his heart, an absentminded, comforting habit he’d picked up when he was alone. Steve goes to snatch his hand away or pretend to be scratching an itch, but he sees Tony, his hand also covering his Arc Reactor, and by extension, his heart. And for a moment he truly _sees_ Tony, and he sees some of what he’s seen in himself in the mirror ever since he was pulled out of the ice.

It still hurts like hell. But maybe he’s not as alone as he thought.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it! Please leave a comment or some kudos, so I know the time I spent on this when I should've been studying wasn't completely wasted.


End file.
